“If you try to escape,” he called, “I’ll train a machine gun on you. Better surrender and avoid bloodshed.”
With a curse of rage, “Black George” raised his revolver and fired. Ensign Warwick leaped aside, as the bullet struck the deck at his feet. A shot rang out from the Sub Chaser. The revolver spun from “Black George’s” grasp, and he jumped up and down grasping the stunned wrist in his other hand.
“Who did that?” queried the naval officer.
“I did, sir,” said Jack. “I merely shot his weapon away to disarm him.”
“Pretty shot,” approved Ensign Warwick, while several of the sailors also murmured approval.
“Folwell, a machine gun is trained on your deck and you cannot escape,” the naval officer continued. “Our men are waiting ashore, and you cannot escape
by swimming. Call your men on deck. A boarding party is coming aboard.”
“Black George” realized the futility of further resistance, and when Ensign Warwick with a half-dozen heavily armed men gained the deck of the trawler he had Engineer MacFinney and eighteen Chinese on deck. They were searched, and then the Chinese were put in the forecastle under guard and the two white men were taken aboard the Sub Chaser.
At sight of the three chums, “Black George” cursed bitterly.
“You’re the cause of all my troubles,” he said. “I should have left you to the tender mercies of Wong Ho’s men back in Chinatown.”